


been a miner

by frausorge



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Toronto Maple Leafs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:04:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frausorge/pseuds/frausorge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wanted the gold," Phil says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	been a miner

**Author's Note:**

> This story isn't a full-on fusion with any particular work, but does draw on elements from various sources, especially Ursula LeGuin's Earthsea series. It also includes one direct quote from the real Tyler Bozak. Title from Neil Young.

"I wanted the gold," Phil says. His cheeks are red and his voice is slurred and petulant. Tyler's been thinking about cutting him off, but Phil's never a mean drunk, so Tyler hasn't said anything yet.

"Yeah, dude, we all wanted medals," JVR says. 

Phil huffs and flicks his hand back, waving that off. " _Gold_ ," he says. "Shoulda been mine."

"Those medals aren't even solid though," Tyler says. "They're just gold-plated."

JVR looks blank, but Phil glances over and quirks one side of his mouth up in acknowledgement. His eyes look just a little brighter.

 

Their shift is a shitshow, and Phil comes back to the bench in a fury, eyes blazing, nostrils flared. His breath hisses out in hot gusts. Tyler offers him a water bottle, but Phil shakes his head with a snort. He reaches down and claws one hand into Tyler's arm pads. Tyler lets him sit like that until it's time for them to go back over the boards.

 

As soon as they get home, Phil sits down in the middle of the couch and spreads his arms out along the back. Stella jumps up onto the cushions and settles alongside him, head in his lap. Phil scritches behind her ears and then cuts a glance over at Tyler. Tyler shakes his head a little, but goes and fits himself in against Phil's other side. Phil tightens his arms around both Tyler and Stella and sighs happily.

 

Phil was also pretty drunk the first time Tyler heard him say anything about it. "Dude," Phaneuf said, "the hell was that? People can recognize you, you know. You can't just deny that you're Phil Kessel."

"'S not my truename," Phil said. "I don't have to answer to it."

"Kes," Phaneuf said, puzzled. He'd clearly never been taught how to handle this kind of thing, the way Tyler learned from his grandmother as a kid. Tyler opened his mouth too, but before he could say anything, Phil turned on his heel and stalked away, shoulders down, his footsteps heavy like he was moving a great weight.

 

Burrows jabs and crosschecks in the second until Phil's temper flares, and Phil is totally fired up in the third. Tyler gets asked about it after Phil has ducked away from the cameras once the game is over. It's a little hard to know what to say; everyone's so convinced that Phil isn't a fighter.

"Well," Tyler says, "I think he kind of likes that stuff, secretly."

 

"Hey," Tyler says. "Phil." 

Stella's sleeping on her doggy bed over in the corner tonight, but Phil seems content enough with just Tyler tucked under the curve of his arm. They haven't been drinking, just sitting with the TV on mute and Stella snuffling softly from time to time behind them. Tyler thinks it must be coming up on two or three in the morning.

"Phil," he murmurs again. Phil tilts his head enough to look down and meet Tyler's eyes. "What's your truename?" Tyler asks.

Phil smiles sleepily and says it.

Tyler takes a breath - he hadn't quite realized he was holding it before - and mouths over the syllables carefully without voicing them. Phil rubs his fingertips back and forth on Tyler's shoulder where his hand has been resting. Tyler lets his head fall back to Phil's chest and closes his eyes.

 

Phil is totally distraught when he realizes his necklace is missing. Tyler knows for a fact that Phil has a whole box full of other necklaces in a dresser drawer at home, but he also knows better than to bring that up right now. "It'll turn up," he says instead. "It's not gone." 

"It's just," Phil says. "It's mine." His fingers press a tight circle around Tyler's wrist. 

"Yes," Tyler says. "You'll get it back." He slipped enough cash into the hands of the Tampa Bay staff to make sure they'll comb every inch of the visitors' locker room. And sure enough, Ray Thill texts him later that night: _Found it. Mail back? or can bring to Sochi._

_awesome sochi pls_ , Tyler answers. The sooner Phil gets it back, the better.

 

"I wanted _gold_ ," Amanda says. Phil nods morosely. Tyler doesn't try to say anything; he figures maybe they both just need to sulk for a while. Phil's hand is heavy on Tyler's thigh under the table. Amanda twists her bracelet back and forth around her wrist.

 

Phil is generally pretty willing to let Tyler tell him where he's supposed to be and when, to get in the car when Tyler says it's time to go, to pack what Tyler reminds him to bring. The day Phil finally puts his mouth on Tyler, though, Tyler knows right down to his bones that he's not going to be the one in charge. 

Phil let Stella jump down off the couch a while ago, and Tyler heard her lapping water from her dish in the kitchen after that. He's lost track of where she is now. Phil put his other arm around Tyler too once Stella was gone. Tyler's been trying to be patient and wait for what Phil will do, but he's not succeeding too well; he's sure Phil can hear his heart beating. 

Phil bends his head and noses at Tyler's neck, up under his ear. Tyler lets out a breath that might as well be a whimper. Phil smiles and sets his teeth against Tyler's jaw.

"Come on -" Tyler gets out, "please -" Phil straightens then, hoists Tyler up by the shoulders and crushes their mouths together.

Phil's mouth is hotter than anything Tyler has imagined. It feels like fire.

Phil's lips, tongue, and teeth are everywhere - on Tyler's throat, across his chest and his thighs, wrapping his cock in that incredible heat. Phil's fingers press into him, opening him up, and then it's Phil's dick pushing slowly but relentlessly into his body.

When Phil is in as deep as he can go, he shifts one hand to push Tyler's sweaty hair back from his forehead. "You're _mine_ ," Phil hisses.

"Yes," Tyler gasps.

Phil bares his teeth triumphantly.

 

"Will you show me, sometime?" Tyler says.

Phil cups Tyler's jaw in the curve of his palm. "Not here," he says.

 

They go out to the lake in the summer, get Tyler's family's cabin to themselves for a week, and wait for a bright, clear day that turns pleasantly cool once the sun goes down.

"Ok," Phil says, standing on the rocks of the shore. "Now."

Tyler says Phil's name, and throws his head back as the shape of wings blacks out the night sky.


End file.
